


Coming back to life

by SherlockianGirl14



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Intentions, M/M, Not Fully Canon Compliant, PTSD, Self Harm, Stucky - Freeform, Suicide Attempt, adding/updating tags as I go, again dubious, sorta?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianGirl14/pseuds/SherlockianGirl14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky may be himself once more, but he is not all at once. <br/>He has to learn how to live- as a man, not a weapon. As a citizen, not a soldier. As himself, not a mold for what anyone else wants him to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I may alter this and add an earlier chapter but I wrote chapter one (and a future chapter) in like half an hour. They will be short. They will be shit.   
> This starts straight up with some crappy action scene that is probably confusing as shit, because I didn't want to write a background. I am tired. There is angst.

Bucky glared at the guard watching him cautiously from the corner of the external room. His grip tightened on the frame of the window, cursing the bulletproof glass for standing in the way of him and the rest of the world.  
He hated this protocol- whenever Steve was away, he was locked up in a cell. All he had was a simple wooden bed, a plastic mattress, a pillow and a blanket; the only connection to the outside world he was granted was a couple of small holes in the window, allowing him to communicate with his guard, and a drink or meal slid through the hatch in the reinforced door.  
His knuckles were already bloodied from trying to punch his way out any way he could- he’d only been inside an hour this time.  
But it was enough for Steve’s mission to be well underway.  
He was just glad that they’d agreed to one compromise- a small television installed beside the guard’s chair had been installed with a live feed to Steve’s hidden camera and mic, letting much watch Steve’s mission and watch over him.  
Even that hadn’t been granted without struggle- he’d given himself a concussion the first three times he’d been locked up without any way of seeing Steve, or hearing his voice. He hadn’t meant to- it had just been that when his wrists felt on the verge of breaking, he’d used his head as a ram instead.   
The compromise didn’t, however, seem to come with a guard that actually listened when he asked him to turn up the volume so that he could hear what Steve was saying.  
“Turn it up,” he demanded again.   
“Mr… Mr Barnes. I don’t understand you, you need to speak-”  
“Shit,” Bucky muttered under his breath, in English this time.  
He kept doing this- sliding into Russian without even noticing. Even after being based back in the good ol’ US of A for at least 10 years, or so his doctor had told him when they’d intercepted his Hydra files. He couldn’t blame himself, they all told him- he’d been frozen for at least 90% of that time. Still, he couldn’t help but hate himself every time it happened. He was an American soldier. He wasn’t a Nazi. He wasn’t Soviet. He was American, and he should damn well quit speaking like he wasn’t.  
“TV. Volume. Up,” he translated coldly.   
The guard’s gaze became disgruntled for a moment at the lack of respect in Bucky’s words, but he obeyed nonetheless.  
The barely audible comms became clearer, and Bucky nodded as he listened closely.  
They were in Alaska. He’d traveled there with Steve, fingers digging into his thighs. They’d arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base together, and Bucky had been allowed to stay for Steve’s briefing - that, too, was a new adjustment to their arrangement - but from there, they were parted.   
Being dragged away from Steve had at first meant literally. Now, though, he had learned that Steve looked disappointed when he screamed and swore and refused to budge. Besides, stressful situations usually tipped him back into Russian, or occasionally even worse, German.  
Recently, their partings had been more dignified, even if Bucky’s behaviour once he was in the box was barely better.  
They had parted today with Bucky gulping back tears and Steve brushing the ghost of a kiss to his ear, a promise of a return that nobody else noticed.  
Nobody else knew yet that when Steve returned and he and Bucky retreated to their shared room, Bucky would cling to him not as a relieved friend, but as a desperate lover.   
Now, he was trained closely on Steve and Rhodes’ words. It was an odd combination, he thought, but Rhodes was a soldier and Tony was not, so he had been sent. Natalia was out there somewhere, too, and occasionally her own words chimed in.  
Her involvement hurt a little, too- for a time, they had been victims together in Russia. Natasha seemed to do a far better job at erasing it from her life than he did, but he knew it can’t always have been the case.  
He hadn’t expected it to happen. Things had seemed to be under control.   
Suddenly, though, Nat was yelling a heads up a second too late, and Steve was crumbling to the ground, and oh god, was that a bullet that just went through his back?  
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.  
“Steve!” he screamed, smacking his head against the glass as hard as he could, not to escape, just because he could, and he didn’t know if he was speaking English or Russian or German.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another shit chapter on another shit story.   
> It's kinda bitty? Idk. It probably doesn't flow well.   
> TW for Bucky's sorta-attempt

It had been half an hour since that bullet hit Steve, sending Bucky’s thoughts spinning into chaos.  
The TV had been shut off by the guard almost straight away, but it was too late- the damage was done.  
Bucky hadn't calmed down since- the guard had been in and out of the box since, pulling him about and yelling at him to calm down, as though Steve wasn't out there and probably dying or already dead.  
When the thought struck him, it piercing through the rage, the anguish, the panic. He stopped, eerily calm.  
“That's it, Mr Barnes. Just take a breath-”  
Bucky wasn't listening. He was too busy thinking through his plan, trying to make it look like he wasn't scanning the room for something he could turn into a weapon.  
If Steve was going to die, he had to be there to greet him. He couldn't let Steve die alone; he wouldn't.   
And maybe he couldn't live alone, either. Maybe it was too hard to have Steve ripped away from him when Steve was all he had left, and who could honestly tell him that he didn't have the right to make this call?  
The blanket.  
There wasn't a light fitting- all of the light came in from the window to the guard’s room. If he wrapped it tight enough to choke himself, though…  
He knew that if he made it obvious, the guard would be straight in to stop him. This guy wasn't exactly the most diligent worker, though, and if he was subtle enough, maybe he could stop him from noticing.

Fifteen minutes later and somehow he’d managed to avoid the guard’s gaze by sitting out of the view of the window, having told him that he wanted to be left alone. The man had hovered uncertainly at first, trying to keep him in eyesight, but it didn't take long for him to sit back down.  
Now, he moved slowly, twisting the scratchy fabric into a loose rope and then wrapping it around his neck once, twice, pulling it right until he felt a throbbing in his temple, then a third time, and knotting it off as best he could, already feeling his nose bubbling with blood at the pressure.  
It took several minutes, but he passed out, blood running down his nose and staining the blanket.

When he woke up, it was to screaming and three unfamiliar faces tugging at him and pulling at his neck painfully.  
Then he remembered.  
He had failed.  
Now they would watch him. Now he couldn't join Steve, couldn't look after him. Hed always looked after him! Steve needed him. When he wasn't there, this shit happened. He needed to go to Steve!  
“James, it's okay. Shh,” someone told him, but they didn't sound like it was okay. Why were they telling him to be quiet, anyway? He wasn't talking?  
“James, you're shouting.”  
No he wasn't! He wasn't speaking and Steve and oh god and…  
“James!” someone else shouted at him, frustration in their voice.  
“Steve,” he whispered.  
“It's okay, James,” the first person replied, and he realised that he had screamed out every thought to them.  
“James, we need you to swallow this for us.”  
He opened his mouth, gulping down the pill the third person had given him without another word, back into submissive mode. He didn't care if Steve wasn't here. He didn't care.   
“James, Steve is alive. We have him in the ICU.”  
First person again. Nice person.  
Steve was alive.   
Steve was fucking alive.  
He nearly left him alone. He needed to be with Steve and he nearly abandoned him.  
“I need to see him,” he told them, more of a plea than a statement.  
“You're not going to see him yet.”  
Second.  
“We need you to come with us for a while. We have a ward for-”  
Third.  
“Shut up, Louis. James… Bucky, isn't it. Right? Okay, Bucky, listen to me. Steve is in good hands. We want to look after you, too. We have somewhere we want you to come, just for a really little while. Deal?”  
Nice person.  
“An asylum?”   
“No, Bucky. It's just a place with a few people who don't know how to be safe right now, like you, and lots of people who want to help them out. It's not an asylum. There are no asylums any more.”  
He nodded to the nice voice. It didn't matter where he was. If Steve was alive, he was alive. Hadn't history proven that already? He would go to their ward. As soon as Steve could leave his, he would too.   
He wasn't going anywhere Steve wouldn't go.


	3. Chapter 3

“When I came home, I spent a term in a place like this,” Natalia said in lieu of greeting.   
“Sure,” Bucky bit back, venom in his voice.   
“Hey. No judgement zone here, please,” she replied, hurt in her voice. Her guards were down, he realised. He should have known she wouldn’t lie.   
He went to apologise, but she silenced him.  
“I wasn’t allowed anywhere near any weapons. Obviously. I can’t remember how I managed it, but I got my hand on a gun. I guess I didn’t do what they expected me to do, because they didn’t know about it until two days later, when Clint knocked on my door and found me sat on my bed, legs crossed and ‘creepy-ass calm’ as he said, with the gun pointed to my own head.”  
“Shit, Nat, I’m-”  
“I don’t think I was suicidal. I didn’t feel for a very, very long time, not like you. When we parted ways, they won, James. So it wasn’t that I was depressed. I just knew, logically, that I wasn’t needed. I did nothing but bring destruction. I’d have put me down if I was someone else, so the connection was clear.”  
“Nat, I-”  
“Let me finish, Barnes,” she cut him off sharply. “The point I’m making here is that I’m alive, am I not? If you see me dead, it won’t be collapsed on my bed with my own bullet in my head. It’ll be out, righting my wrongs on some mission. I don’t particularly care about my life, but apparently I’m not a danger anymore. Not unless you’ve done something I can’t find justification for,” she shrugged.  
“I don’t need to be here, Nat.”  
“James, Steve is still in critical condition. None of us need you in that same state,” she replied calmly.   
She had changed since he had known her. Back then, they hadn’t gotten to her yet. She was young. She was gentle.   
So he knew that now, it meant so much more when she reached across and brushed his hair out of his face with a sympathetic smile.  
“I’m sorry, Nat.”  
“Don’t be sorry. Just be safe. I promise you, the moment he wakes up - and he will wake up - I’ll get down here and set you up on a facetime call with him. The moment he’s mobile in any way, he’s coming straight down to see you. And I’m sure I can swing it for you two to get some time to yourselves, so long as you promise to be gentle with him,” she told him, her smile taking on 2  
an impure twist that he still remembered. She may have been scared and young and a different kind of broken when he knew her, but she was still herself.   
“You-”  
“Please, Barnes. You two might think you’re subtle. You might even have them all fooled. But you can’t get something that big past me.”  
“Thank you.”  
“What for?”  
“For not telling them.”  
“Why would I? It’s not my story to tell,” she shrugged. “Tell me, though. How long?”  
“I guess you could say about 75 years,” Bucky smiled back, letting his mood lift a little as he thought back to a slightly drunk Steve, aged 16, telling him that he was in love with him. Never had he been more glad to have twisted his friend into some new kind of mischief than when he’d dragged him out that night.  
“Damn. I don’t know if there’s even an anniversary for that,” Nat remarked.  
“Oh, fuck you, Natalia,” he grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week. Nat had visited every day, but every time, it had been the same- no change. Steve was still out.  
Today, though, she looked different. Maybe it was that Bucky had gotten changed for the first time since he had arrived; maybe it was that he had pulled his hair back out of his face in a bun, making himself look a lot cleaner despite his growing stubble.  
She did seem to be proud of those things (after three days, she had remarked that he needed to try to get himself into some semblance of routine), but no, it was something else.  
She didn’t speak, but she looked like she might have been crying. This Nat didn't cry.  
Sitting down on Bucky’s bed, she handed him her phone, unlocking it and clicking to the photo app.  
The most recent file was a video.  
He clicked the play button with trembling fingers, unsure if this would be the best or the worst news of his week.

He knew quickly enough.

“Steve, can you say hi?” Nat’s voice came from behind the camera.  
“Buck…” Steve groaned from where he lay, attempting to sit up. The nurse beside his bed quickly lay him back down, whispering soothing words in his ear. Steve nodded, wincing as he sank back into the pillows.   
“That's it. I'm going to take this to Bucky.”  
“Love.”  
“Mhm. I know. He knows.”  
“Stupid.”  
“Yeah, he was, wasn't he?” Nat replied, her voice cracking a little.  
“Can I sleep?”  
“Okay,” came the unseen sigh. “Say bye to Bucky. I'll get him to send you something back. We can watch it later, okay? And tomorrow you can talk to him on video chat, okay?”  
“Thanks,” Steve mumbled.

“He's…”  
“He's going to be fine, James.”  
“Shit… I nearly left him and…”  
“Don’t,” she told him sharply.  
Bucky nodded. This was obviously difficult for her, too. He had a feeling her tears had been shed over him, not Steve.  
He didn't want to think about that, so he hit play on the video once more, this time focusing on Steve’s face rather than his words.  
He wore a slight dopey smile towards the start of the video, but as soon as he tried to sit up, it turned to a frown. When he called Bucky stupid, he looked as though he was going to cry.  
Steve was obviously dosed up and high on all kind of drugs, but he still knew what he was saying. Maybe it was the serum that did that, weakened the effects of the medicines and kept him from delirium.  
The serum had probably saved his life, too. Bucky had seen right; he’d been shot. The bullet had gone clean through him, barely missing his heart, but his enhanced body had kept him alive just long enough to get him to hospital before it had given up and let the doctors take over protecting Steve. Without that serum, even if Steve was an average built guy, he'd be dead.

He watched the video again. This time, he noticed that when Steve said his name, he was reaching his arm out as if trying to take Bucky’s hand.

Switching to the camera app, he set it to video and hit record, forcing himself to smile.  
“Heya, Stevie. You were a little out of it back there, huh? I hate to alarm ya, but you just told Nat and that nurse and anyone else in the room about us. Nat already knew, by the way- right Natalia?” he prompted, tilting the screen towards Nat, who smoothly picked up her own role in replying.  
“Of course I did. You think I can't read you two? You're not as clever as you think.”  
“Ah, don't listen to her, Stevie. I think you're a genius,” he laughed quietly. He glanced to Nat for a second, considering his next words. She nodded at him in encouragement, and he continued speaking. “Now, Stevie, you gotta listen to me, okay? You get yourself nice and healed up, so you can come see me. I'll be doing the same. I gotta work on my headspace, I can see that. I guess I didn't realise it until recently. So you promise me that you'll get that body of yours back to how it should be. I'll be giving you a checkup,” he grinned, laughing properly when Nat nudged him in indignation and disgust. He hit the record button once more to stop the message and handed the phone back to Natasha.  
“Was that necessary, James?”  
“Always, Natalia, love.”  
“I don't know why I expected anything else,” she smiled fondly. “Want me to brush your hair properly for you? Gotta look the best for your Skype date with Captain Stoned tomorrow, right? And you could really use a shower, too.”  
Bucky sighed, nodding and handing her the hairbrush she’d brought him earlier in the week (telling him that ‘if you're gonna have hippy hair, I can deal with it. I can't if you get dreadlocks’). It was no good arguing with Nat- she was a force to be reckoned with at the best of times, but when she had her ‘I know what's best for you’ head screwed on, she was unstoppable.  
He simply let himself lean back, closing his eyes and listening as she hummed old lullabies she used to lure him to sleep with. She always had a beautiful voice, and it was a reminder to him of the life she could have had if she hadn't been sent to the red room.   
She didn't dance any more.  
He wished she would.


	5. Chapter 5

The first time he left his allocated room (aside from to use the adjacent bathroom), Nat had left him, but her soft song was still flowing through his mind, keeping him calm. After all, her parting words to him had been that he needed to get out of his room and mingle.

A quick shower had tousled his hair once more, the damp tendrils chilling his neck a little. He had, upon her command, put his pyjamas aside to be washed. Instead, he wore a pair of loose-fitting grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. 

He looked better, if only a little, and a look in the mirror left him surprised to find that the bags under his eyes that he had grown accustomed to seeing when he was apart from Steve were fading.

Heading out, both metal and flesh hands were shaking.

The first person he saw that wasn’t a nurse was a small, nervous looking man with greenish skin. He tried not to stare. He’d heard a little of mutants since he’d been back and with Steve. He could only guess what being different had done to the man.

Well, he didn’t have to. He was here.

He nodded a greeting and the man smiled nervously back. He moved on.

The main lounge was pretty empty, and he sat himself in front of the TV, deciding to watch the news in the hopes that there was some update on Steve.

“-and what do you think about the Captain America situation?” the anchor asked some suit who was so obviously reading a cue screen.

“I think that Mr Rogers-”

“Captain,” someone else interrupted, and the camera panned to show Nat sat, looking mildly uncomfortable with her situation.

What the fuck.

She should have told him she was going to do this. Had she even told Steve? Had Steve had any say in this at all?

“Yes, Captain Rogers. Well, I think that this just proves that Captain Rogers isn’t a superhero. We need to send army into these missions and not rely on these so-called ‘heroes’- no offense, Miss Romanoff.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Sir,” Nat replied over sweetly, and Bucky knew that the guy was in for it. “Not one of us claim to be superheroes. However, next time there’s an invasion to your hometown, perhaps you’d rather wait for the army to come and save your life. Or maybe you’d want a team who are capable in this field to do so. Did you know that it was a base with other so-called ‘superhumans’? Captain Rogers did. And by the way, after he was shot, Sergeant Rhodes and I successfully completed the mission without him. We aren’t ‘superheroes’. He’s a soldier. I’m a spy and a trained assasin.”

“Yes, and Rhodes is military trained. Are you not proving my point?”

“Rhodes wears metal armour. If he didn’t- like the army don’t- and he’d taken that bullet, he’d be dead.”

The man clearly looked put out by that statement, and despite his anger, Bucky couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

“At least the army is stable,” the man retorted, and Bucky saw the death in Nat’s look.

How the fuck had they found out?

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” the host intervened.

“He’s referring to the hospitalisation of Mr Barnes, I believe.”

“You admit it?” the man asked, his face triumphant.

“I do. Because it is nothing to be ashamed of. All of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s agents, employees and associates are offered psychiatric help whenever needed, at whatever tier it is needed. Barnes’ mental health is nothing to admit or deny. Mental health is nothing to admit or deny, full stop.”

Maybe he was a little less angry now. Because Nat was fucking slaying this man, and he was lapping it up.

“So you’re happy to send suicidal agents into the field?”

“Not at all. Notice, Barnes isn’t out in the field.”

“Isn’t it true that he could relapse later on, Miss Romanoff?” 

“Of course. And if that happens, we would take care of it as we are now.”

“Is that right, though?”

“Are you saying you’d discriminate based upon past - or present - mental health? Because if so, I’d like you to discriminate against me, just as you are against Barnes. And against Mr Stark. And against a quarter of the population. That means if you know more than three other people, you’ll have to discriminate and look down upon those people, too.”

Fuck yes, Nat.

“What are you saying-”

“I’m saying I’m not going to accept bigoted assholes like you-”

“-we apologise for that. Miss Romanoff, if you could care to remember that we are live-” the anchor interrupted her.

“-and I’m not going to be talked down upon. And nor will I let my colleagues and friends be talked down on.”

“Okay, and we’re out of time for today, so thank you for coming. You certainly seem to have very different opinions on the Captain’s injuries and indeed many other things-”

Nat stood up and walked out.

Bucky looked up when, from the corner of the room, someone began to clap.

He smiled at the small man with green skin, joining in.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kinda reads like a filler chapter. Sorry.

“Bucky, can I talk to you one sec?”   
“Sure,” Bucky smiled up at the nurse. Eliza was nice; he got on with her well. Before he had started leaving his room, she had been the only one to sit with him whilst he ate, attempting to make conversation even when he refused to say a word.  
“Let’s just grab a side room, okay?”   
He stood up and followed her out of the lounge, waiting for her to unlock a meeting room before heading inside.  
“God, I hate these. The chairs are the most uncomfortable things. Couldn’t they just throw a couch in here?” she chattered.  
“They aren’t the best, no.”  
“Okay, so we have something we want to ask you. I think you’ll like it,” Eliza beamed at him. “So, Bucky, we’re pleased that you haven’t had any big problems since you’ve been here, and in the last couple of days you’ve been really doing well.”  
“Thanks.”  
“I know Natasha’s been caught up with press affairs and work and hasn’t been able to link you and Steve up since the video he sent you, and I know it’s been getting you down,” she paused for a moment, her grin spreading before she proceeded. “Well, we’ve managed to catch her free this afternoon, and we were wondering if you’d like to come with me and her to visit Steve.”  
“As in… As in off-grounds? Go see him? For real?”  
“Sound good?”  
“Yeah, I… Definitely! Thank you.”  
“No problem, Barnes. If you want to go preen in front of your mirror, feel free. I need to fill out some papers before we go and she isn’t due for a while,” Eliza joked, and Bucky laughed quietly, because he couldn’t deny that he was probably going to go and despair over his hair like a teenager on their first date.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door and he looked up to see Nat leaning against the doorframe with an amused look on her face.  
“You look fine, Barnes.”  
“I saw your little press stunt, by the way,” he told her, refusing to take up on her light teasing.  
“Sorry about that. He needed to be taken down a peg. I was happy to comply, but I didn’t think.”  
“No. It’s okay. I was rooting for you. Although I think you should have kicked the sucker’s ass.”  
“Not on live television, James,” she smiled. “Come on. Eliza’s waiting for us, and I’m not sure if I can spend much longer around her without you for support.”  
“Aw, c’mon, Nat. She’s nice. She’s just… Excitable,” Bucky laughed, following her out.

Halfway into the car ride and he was starting to agree with Nat- Eliza’s constant chatter was driving him up the wall. Still, he was fond of her, and he knew she was only trying to lighten the mood.  
Besides, it meant he got to see Steve. Nothing else mattered.  
Apparently, the press had found out where the psychiatric hospital was somehow and had been lurking outside ever since. They were fucking insatiable- he could only imagine what it would be like when he got to Steve.   
Poor Nat was probably all over the papers with images from both locations- as well as anywhere else she went, most likely. He knew that Tony had been pissed at her for bringing up his name, and that probably meant he too was being hounded. It wouldn’t exactly be a picnic for the rest of the team, either. He was almost glad he and Steve were out of the way of it all.  
Nat and Eliza had tried to protect him from the media that had been waiting, probably only expecting Natasha and instead getting Bucky, too. Still, he was almost certain that they’d snapped a few photos of him.  
They’d definitely caught him yelling at them to ‘fuck off’ and giving them the finger.  
Nat had scolded him, but it had been well worth it. Fucking media pricks getting involved in his fucking life.

It wasn’t long until he started to see small clumps of journalists gathered- even the occasional tent.   
“Alright-y, Buck. We’re gonna take you in through the underground carpark and up. That’ll keep a couple of them away, but most of them will have sussed that out. Try to resist flipping them off this time- as tempting as it is,” Eliza told him, catching his eye in the rear-view mirror and grinning at him.  
He reached across the seat, finding Nat’s hand. Usually, both of them would laugh at this kind of gesture, but right now she understood the need for him to be comforted, squeezing his hand in reassurance.  
A part of him almost wanted Eliza to turn the car around and head back when he saw them. But he knew Steve was waiting. He hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks, and he wasn’t going to back out over a bunch of journalist assholes.  
When Eliza had parked up the car, he took a deep breath and let go of Natasha’s hand, opening the car door and heading out into the sea of people.


	7. Chapter 7

“James- how are you feeling?”  
“Over here- over here Bucky!”  
“Any news on Capt-”  
“What do you think of Mr Stark’s outburst last night?”  
“Can you confirm that you and Miss Romanoff are an item?”  
He actually laughed at the last one. He’d definitely have to do something about that. That question got asked all too often.  
“How’s the neck?”  
Oh, that one made him see red. He nearly retaliated to that.  
But then he saw Natasha casting him a warning glance. He looked to the other side and there was Eliza looking worried about him.  
If someone was that desperate for news that they could strike so low, he wasn’t going to give them it.  
Then he saw her- a little girl, sat on her dad’s shoulders, holding up a sign. She had tin foil wrapped around one of her arms, and he couldn’t help but smile.  
‘Mr Bucky, I hop yure not hurt.’  
The sign was barely legible- she couldn’t be older than five, and she’d clearly made it herself. In the corner, she’d attempted to draw what looked like her holding hands with Steve and Bucky.  
“One second,” he muttered to the women that flanked his sides, pushing through the crowds towards her.  
“Hey, princess. What’s your name?” he asked, smiling at the astounded father who gently set her to the ground.  
“I’m Emilia. And you’re James Buch-Bucha-n Barnes,” she told him proudly.  
“Yup. That’s me. You can call me Bucky, though, like that sign you got there. That’s real nice of you, you know.”  
“I worked hard.”  
“I can see! Hey, do you have a pen by any chance, Emilia? And a piece of paper?”  
She shook her head, but her father dug into his pocket and handed him a byro and an old receipt.  
“Look at that. Dad to the rescue, right? Can I lean on your back one minute?” he asked, waiting her her to turn around before beginning to write.  
She giggled a little at first, but waited patiently for him.  
“Here, Mia. Want me to read it?” her dad offered. “It says ‘Miss Emilia. Thank you for being so kind to me. You’re a star. Love, Mr Bucky’.”  
She laughed at that, turning around once more to hug him, dropping her sign in the process.  
“Hey, Emilia. I think that sign is very special. Can I keep it?”  
“That would be nice,” she replied, her voice muffled.  
“I think so too. I have to go now, kiddo, but I’m gonna go see Steve and I’m gonna show him this sign. Okay?”  
“Okay,” she said, releasing him. “Tell him I hope he’s okay, too.”  
He nodded, ruffling her hair as he walked away.  
Well, the press had their pictures now. Screw it- he didn’t care. That little girl was way more important than them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This is awful. Bad writing. It reads as forced. I admit it. Do not judge me?

The moment he saw Steve, everything else slipped away. Steve was conscious and more together than he had been in his message. Steve was okay.  
He didn’t remember running over to him, but he found himself buried into Steve’s side, clutching his hospital gown tightly and doing his best not to cry.  
“You fucking asshole,” he growled between soft gasps that failed to conceal the tears. “Fucking getting shot.”  
“I could say the same to you. What were you thinking, Buck?”  
Shit. Bucky looked up at Steve at that, expecting disappointment and hatred. Instead, he was met with sadness and concern.  
“I couldn’t do it without you. I thought you were dead and I freaked out.”  
“Okay.”  
“Huh?”  
“Okay. I just needed to know why. Needed to know if you were gonna do it again if you got the chance,” Steve replied.  
“Shit, no.”  
“Okay,” Steve repeated.   
“May I?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded, shuffling over so that Bucky could lay down next to him.  
From the doorway, Natasha cleared her throat and Bucky looked up, smiling sheepishly at the amusement on Eliza’s face and Nat’s raised brow. Beside him, Steve laughed.  
He’d missed this- missed Steve. He supposed that their little secret may as well come out- as much as Natasha’s silent teasing made him want to blush at his own PDA, it was definitely welcome.   
Besides, he knew that a lot of tabloids had their suspicions of Steve’s sexuality. May as well give America a little helping hand in the gay rights area.   
Or stir things up a little amongst patriotic homophobes.  
Either would do.  
“Hey, Nat, can I borrow your phone?” Steve asked.  
“Where’s yours, asshole?” she responded with a small smile, handing it over.  
“Probably lost somewhere. I did get shot- they weren’t in a hurry to arrange everything I owned for me,” he retorted, making Bucky laugh.   
“What do you want it for, anyway?”  
“Pull up a chair, Nat. I think I ought to make some sort of statement.”  
Bucky sat up, waiting for Nat to unlock the phone and hand it over with a small from before helping Steve shift himself.  
Steve clicked play on the record button, clearing his throat.  
“I know that a lot of you have been wondering what has happened to me. There have been some rumours, I know. I want to set that straight. I was shot from the back in the left shoulder during a mission to shut down a terror base. The rest of my team went on to successfully complete the mission.   
“Now, I know there has been a lot of concern and controversy recently. Some of that has revolved around S.H.I.E.L.D.’s ability to do our job. However, despite my injury, I must reiterate that we were, in fact, successful.   
“Another worry has been about the health of our agents,” Steve turned to look at Bucky for a moment. “Apparently, there have been whispers that S.H.I.E.L.D. cannot protect our agents from their mental health and that we are therefore a weak organisation. I want to put these rumours to bed today. Mr Barnes is currently receiving care, yes. I want to emphasise on that. He is receiving care. We at S.H.I.E.L.D. do not shy away from mental health- denial is one of the worst things for it. We ensure that everyone here receives adequate guidance, and we would never disregard their health in the workplace-”  
“May I?” Bucky interrupted.   
Natasha frowned at him in an attempt to deter him, but Steve nodded, although he looked slightly surprised at Bucky’s request.  
“S.H.I.E.L.D. cares about their employees. They serve to protect them. There is no question there.”  
“If there is this much controversy surrounding Barnes’ health, and other agents, then perhaps America needs to reconsider the way it views mental health as a whole,” Nat added.  
“Let it be known that S.H.I.E.L.D. is not weak. I am aware that the events of 2014 and earlier this year were both big concerns when it came to your faith in us, but I assure you that we are stronger than we have been in a long time. We serve to protect this nation, and you can trust us,” Steve smiled confidently to the camera, about to click an end to the video.  
“S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America and I would also like to make a final statement,” Bucky interrupted Steve once more, gently knocking his hand away from the phone. He earned himself a look of confusion from Steve and distrust from Natalia, but he had started now, so he may as well finish. “There have been some more innocent rumours about Miss Romanoff and I. I can assure you that our relationship is entirely platonic. However, I think it’s time the world knew that Captain America is a member of the LGBTQ+ community. As am I.”  
He turned to Steve, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face, a doting smile on his face.  
“Did you just come out for me to the country?” Steve whispered to Bucky.  
“Guess I did,” Bucky replied. “Just kind of felt right?”  
Steve nodded, looking back to the camera.  
“America has made huge changes since the early 20th century. I have faith that this nation is far more accepting than the one I was raised in, and I’m proud to… To be a bisexual man living in America.”  
He hit the end record button with a hasty sigh.  
“What the hell, Barnes?” Natasha immediately jumped in.  
“Uh…?”  
“It’s fine. Happy coming out to you too, I guess?”


End file.
